


Flour and Flowers

by orphan_account



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, At least not really, Bread Riot, Eren Tries His Best To Take Care of His Family, French Revolution, Levi's Not an Asshole, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 18:59:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7118593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before the French Revolution, the country of France is in a deep economical crisis, and the price of bread is doubling by the week. Eren finds himself caught in the deep end of a bread riot, trying to support Mikasa and Armin, injured and afraid. Awaiting a pitiful death, he wasn't expecting a strong and handsome man with piercing grey eyes to come to his rescue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flour and Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in Paris right before the French Revolution. I apologize in advance for any misinformation regarding France and the time period, but I found the concept pretty intriguing, and I've always wanted to right a kind-of-historical AU, so I gave it a pathetic attempt. Honestly, I was going to update my other story today, but that story's sad a fuck and with the recent chapter 82 spoilers, I wasn't feeling up to something so depressing.  
> With that being said, have some fluff (and a little bit of angst).

Chaos is everywhere. Screams, whimpers, and feral, horrible yelling fills the entire street. Eren watches, horrified, yet numb to the violence, as a woman is beaten brutally by angry fists, crying loud enough to grate on his ears. With a sinking stomach, he observes at least seven shops with shattered windows and smoke pouring out.

And to think that all of it is for some bread.

Fires light up along the streets, and scraps of clothes and burnt bread litter the pavement. Everyone, Eren included, is on their hands and knees trying to pick up as many scraps as possible. He scrapes his fingers along the ground, searching for any remaining morsel. His fingers are raw and bloody, but the pain doesn't bother him much. Even so, he finds no more pieces of bread, and he lets out a disappointed, watery huff, trying to ignore the crying, pleading lady behind him.

"Please. If you could spare just one piece," she begs, emaciated with gaunt, hungry eyes.

Although there's pity and sympathy, Eren feels mostly anger. _"Does it look like I have any to spare?"_ He wants to hiss, but there's really no time for petty things like that. Instead, he ignores her, shaking the guilt away because there’s no point in feeling anything for the half-dead woman.

Standing on his wobbly and bloody legs, Eren glances down at the meager portion of bread that is now hidden under his ripped coat. The bread he's managed to collect is definitely not enough to feed one mouth, much less three.

He starts to move, weaving between the hordes as he blinks black discouraged tears. _I'm sorry, Mikasa and Armin. I've failed again._

For the past few days, Eren's been giving most of the bread to Mikasa and Armin, and keeping next to none for himself. He doesn't tell them, of course, and he always spits his lies through his teeth. Empty words of, _"I've already eaten."_ After all, he's the oldest, and it's his responsibility to care for his family. Even so, the terrible ache in his stomach is a constant reminder of how close he is to his death bed.

He shoves his way past a burly man, one hand clutching the pieces of bread through his coat, and the other one pressed against his mouth and nose. The smoke smells of burning bodies, and the thought alone almost makes his stop and retch. But he keeps moving, light on his feet as he pushes past another person.

He observes a loud crowd somewhere to his left, watching as greedy and desperate hands all grab for something. There must be more bread. For a second, Eren stops, staring as an entire loaf of bread gets tossed into the air before falling back into the violent, gathering crowd. He salivates simply at the sight of the bread, and he starts to make his way over to the disaster zone without really thinking it through.

All of his rational thoughts are getting tossed aside because _food._ He's so hungry that it hurts, and he doesn't want Mikasa and Armin to have to go to sleep unsatisfied for the millionth night in a row.

He makes sure that his already collected bread is tucked safely against him before maneuvering into the chaotic, messy crowd. There's so much screaming, crying, and angry shouts that Eren's ears ring, but he doesn't pay much attention to it. Being small, he has the advantage seeing as most of the people grabbing for the bread are adults, so he messily, but easily, stumbles to the middle of the horde. He gets shoved left and right, and he's certain that his arms and shoulders are completely bruised, but he catches a glance at the loaf of bread again, and determination ignites within him.

The bread has begun to tear, and dirty, grimy fingers claw around Eren, trying to reach for more. But a sizable chunk still remain, and he watches, wide eyed, as it falls to the crowd from a clumsy person's hands. It's his opportunity!

Diving between the blood-thirsty and violent mob, Eren wraps his small hands tightly around the torn loaf of bread, tucking it to his chest and he struggles to get back on his feet. His knees are scraped, and so are his elbows, but he doesn't really care. He got the bread!

His victory, however, is short lived as a man violently attempts to rip it from him, shouting angrily into his ears. Eren's shoved with a brutal force, and he falls right back onto the ground, crying out as his leg twists underneath him. But he doesn't let go of the bread. He can't. It's the only thing he cares about now.

The man's not the only one shouting at Eren. Everyone from the crowd is now shouting at him, and he tries to crawl away, but an angry fist stops him, pounding him in the face, followed my many more fists all from different people.

"Fuck," Eren hisses, tasting the metallic flavour of blood. It hurts.

The other scraps of bread he got earlier have long fallen to the ground, but it's a small sacrifice for a much larger portion of food. Ignoring the pain in his face, and everywhere else, Eren gets back onto his feet, even as another hand yanks him back, scratching his arms for the bread.

"I'm not giving it to you," Eren screams above the other noises, but he's only met with someone spitting in his face.

"Fuck you!" A woman screams. "A child like you needs next to nothing to survive! I have a family! I have a husband! You don't need the fucking bread!"

Eren ignores her, tilting his body back to avoid someone's aimed punch. His entire body is alight with fire, and he struggles as a tall, terrible smelling man encases him in veiny, bulging arms. "You going somewhere?" The man screams into Eren's ear, and Eren flinches back, wriggling out of the man's grasp like a worm.

The bread is still tuck to him, both his arms wrapped tightly around it. Without his arms, fighting is significantly more difficult, but he still gets some good kicks in, yelling out defiantly. And being the squirmy teen he is, he manages to escape the tight, painful, grasp.

"Get back here!" Several people scream as Eren finally breaks free from the crowed group, running for his life.

He hears feet pounding behind him, and he knows that they're all chasing him, but he doesn't dare look back. His heart is beating rapidly, but adrenaline keeps the exhaustion and fear at bay for the time being. He has one goal in mind, and that's to not give up the bread.

There's no way.

At least, that was the plan until Eren tripped.

"Shit!" He yelps, falling to the ground. With his hands unable to reach out to catch himself, too preoccupied with holding onto the bread, he lands jarringly onto his shoulder.

_Pop._

Hot, hot, hot pain spikes through him, and Eren whimpers, feeling tears prick at his eyes.

He tries to get back up. Honestly, he does, but his ankle is messed up too, and he doesn't want to let go of the bread. He's terrified that if he lets go of the bread, someone will take it from him, and he'll have to go back to Mikasa and Armin only to be faced with their sunken, empty eyes.

He can't handle that.

He can't handle going back empty handed.

He doesn't think he can handle their vacant, hollow gazes for another night.

 _Get up, get up, get up,_ he chants to himself, desperately trying to wiggle back onto his feet. His constant movement makes his shoulder light up with pain again, but he ignores it, struggling to his knees. It's only when he hears the yelling and footsteps getting louder that he really panics.

"Help," Eren rasps, sobbing. "Please, help!"

"Shut up," the bulky man from earlier hisses, finally caught up to Eren. The rest of the mob is there too, and they surround him. "You think that you can steal the bread and get away with it? A scrawny boy like you, hah! You don't need the food like I do."

He yanks Eren by the hair and forces his face onto the gravel. Crying out, Eren gets a mouthful of dirt, and his bruises knees ache as he's pressed even further into the floor.

Someone else comes up behind him and kicks his harshly, causing agony to spike down from his shoulder all the way down to his tailbone. He's aware that the shoulder is probably dislocated from his fall earlier, and the pain of the kick paired with his shoulder nearly makes his throw up.

His stomach does a flip when the burly man purposely grabs his injured shoulder, and he screams into the ground with clenched teeth.

"Help! Someone, anyone, please!" He yells again, turning his head to the side to pit out the gravel.

"Shut up!" The bulky man howls, yanking Eren's shoulder back.

_Oh god, oh god, oh god._

The pain is so unreal that is blinds Eren for a minute, and he has to swallow the bile rising in his throat.

"Give me the fucking bread, or I'll kill you," the man spits.

Eren tucks the bread as tight as it'll go against his stomach.

Suddenly, the man lets go of his shoulder, and Eren nearly cries in relief. That is, until the man says his next words. The man turns to address the mob, and says with a low, groaning voice, "Since the kid is being so uncooperative, how's about we have some fun?"

For a second, Eren's stomach lurches as the words. But he's immediately brought a sense of artificial relief as several people voice their disagreement. Loudly, Eren might add.

"Shut up!" a woman shouts from the middle of the mob, and it takes Eren a second to realize that she's talking to the burly man. "I just want the damn loaf of bread!"

The rest of the crowed choruses in agreement, making the bulky man growl. "I can kill all of you right now. I'm the size of two of you combined, and as strong as five men." Eren tries not the roll his eyes at the man's gloat, even though no one will really see it. "However," the man continues, "if you let me have my way with the boy, I'll give each of you a decent piece of the bread, and we can all go on our way."

"There's fifty of them, you dolt," Eren manages to gasp out, despite the curling of his stomach. "There's only enough bread to feed three people contently at most. Do you really expect your plan to work out?"

Perhaps talking back is not the smartest thing to do, but there's no way Eren's going down without a fight. Since the man is no longer holding on to him, and Eren's filled with desperation and adrenaline, he manages to stumble to his feet. His left ankle lags uselessly behind him, and one arm dangles at his side, but the bread is still tucked flush against his skin, and he's be damned if he lets the disgusting man, or the rest of the mob, take it from him.

And so, as the mob and the man digests his words, he starts to run again, stumbling and tripping and he fights through the crippling pain.

He's well aware that he can't outrun them, but he's hoping that the mob will go after the man instead of Eren. After all, if Eren was in the mob, he'd be pretty pissed if a man tried to deceive him of his food.

It seems, however, that luck isn't very kind to Eren, because he can immediately hear the pursuit of several people behind him.

He can taste the salt of his tears in his mouth, and he has no idea where he's going as he runs down a dark, filthy ally. All he knows it that he's not anywhere near Mikasa and Armin, and that he's probably going to die tonight.

"Help, please!" Eren tries again once the burly man reaches him once more, knocking him down. "Please!"

The bulky, veiny man raises his hand, rage contorting his face, and Eren shuts his eyes. He braces himself for the pain, curling up on the floor, and he tries to ignore the horrible agony raging through his shoulder and leg.

However, the blow never comes. Instead, the sound of a door being opened interrupts the man and the mob's rampage, and Eren slowly opens his eyes.

"What's going on?" A low, steely voice cuts through the crowd. The energy from the crowd and the burly man, although so angry before, suddenly becomes anxious and jittery. Silence immediately falls, and Eren swallows, confused at the sudden change of atmosphere.

"Mr. Levi, were we disturbing you?" The burly man asks nervously, and the so-called Levi snorts and roll his eyes.

"No shit," Levi says, and the burly man pales. Levi then notices Eren on the floor and his gaze softens, but on briefly before he turns back to the burly man. "Nile," Levi says, tilting his head to the side. "It's been a while. I see that you've bulked up quite a bit." And Eren's almost certain that Levi whispers a, "disgusting," at the end, but it's so quite that Eren's not sure if he imagined it.

Even so, it makes Eren almost grin, but then he remembers his predicament, and his amusement dies.

"What are you doing with the kid?" Levi asks, nodding at Eren.

"I, we, err," Nile stutters, turning beat red. "We, ah, um..." Slowly, Eren watches as Nile's face gives way to anger, and he spits out a sudden, but very expected, "The kid stole some bread!"

Eren actually does roll his eyes this time, and now that his face isn't pressed to the floor, it's probably not the best thing to do.

 _Right, I 'stole' the bread,_ Eren thinks sarcastically, grimacing when he rolls his shoulder, forgetting his injury. He wipes at the new, pricking tears, not giving them a chance to spill.

Levi raises an Eyebrow at Nile, and Eren notices that the rest of the crowd is slowly leaving, shoulders of the people hunched with fear. Just who is this Levi, and why does his have such a big effect on the people?

"Stole?" Levi questions Nile. "Was the bread bought with your money?"

Although Levi's voice is cool and calm, Eren can't help but shiver at the tone. There's something so...commanding about it. It's truly terrifying, and he can only be glad that it's not directed at him. And judging from the tremors racking through Nile’s unnaturally built body, he can only assume that he's not the only one to feel the threatening undertones in Levi's voice.

"Well...no," Nile admits, looking bashful, and Eren slowly begins to inch away.

Levi hums, eyes beginning to narrow as he casually takes out a knife, twirling it between pale fingers. "Then how on earth did the kid 'steal' the bread?" He asks, smirking slightly when Nile lets out a squeak.

"I-I-I..." Nile tries to say something, but ends up stumbling over his words instead.

Levi grins cruelly, but Eren can only find it beautiful. After all, the mysterious, and strangely powerful man is saving his life. "I would suggest that you leave, and that you never bother this boy again," Levi states coldly, and Eren watches with strange fascination and Nile stammers out an apology and bolts, along with the nervous crowd, Leaving Eren on the floor. It's shockingly, really, how a single man can handle a hungry, violent mob with just a few words. Eren's duly impressed, and eternally grateful.

Eren stares at the bread that's somehow still in his hands, and then at Levi, and then back at the bread. And slowly, with much effort, he gets up from the floor for what feels like the millionth time. It's hard, and painful, and Levi actually comes over to Eren to help.

The cold look in Levi's eyes have now turned soft, and as he bends down to help Eren up, Eren gets a good look at his face.

Levi's attractive, but not conventionally. He has piercing, light coloured eyes (gray, Eren assumes, although it's hard to tell with the lack of sunlight), and dark, neatly trimmed hair. It's and undercut, Eren observes, noting that Levi has heavy lids and thin eyebrows. There's no doubt that the man's French through and through, unlike Eren's more foreign features. Eren's tanned skin and bright green eyes have always lead to suspicious looks on the streets, and have definitely gotten him beaten up more than once.

"Here, let me help," Levi says, voice surprisingly gentle. He slowly pulls Eren up, avoiding his injured shoulder.

"Thanks," Eren finally manages to say after recovering from a slight moment of shock. He notices how Levi glances up and down his beaten, bloody, and injured body, lips pulled into a frown.

"We need to get you cleaned up," Levi mutters, leading Eren to his house with his hand pressed against the small of Eren's back. And when Eren sees the light coming from inside, and feels a draft of warmth, he can't help but be tempted.

He's so tempted to just follow Levi in. But, "I can't," Eren says, looking down to avoid stumbling on his tired legs. "I need to get back to my brother and sister. They're probably worried." His stomach sinks as he says this because he really doesn't want to throw himself into danger again to get home, but he has to. He has to get back to Mikasa and Armin, and he has to bring them the bread.

Levi's frown deepens. "Listen, kid. I know that your family probably needs you, but you're injured," he glances pointedly at Eren's throbbing shoulder, "and probably exhausted."

Eren shakes his head. "No, I really need to get back," he says, because there's no way that he's going to leave Mikasa and Armin alone for the night. They're probably terrified and hungry, and he'll never forgive himself if something were to happen to them while he was gone. He's supposed to protect them, after all.

"Kid—" Levi begins, only to be cut off.

"Eren. It's Eren." Eren's aware that giving his name out isn't very smart, but he's tired of being called 'kid.' And there's also the fact that if Levi wanted him dead, he probably would've killed him already.

Levi takes a deep breath. "Fine, Eren, let's compromise. You let me set your shoulder, and I'll bring you home."

Eren thinks for a while, wondering if it's a good idea. The horrifying pain in his shoulder yells that _yes, it's an excellent idea,_ but he doesn't know how long it'll take, and he doesn't want to waste anymore more time. But Levi makes a good point, and he'll feel much safer if Levi accompanies him back, so he nods, words getting stuck in his throat.

"Good," Levi breathes out, and Eren's sure that he detects some relief. It's heartwarming to know that strangers can care about other strangers.

With much care, Levi leads Eren into his house and closes the door behind them, bolting it shut. It's an instant relief from the cold, and Eren can already feel his tense muscles relaxing. It's painful and nice at the same time. Even so, as his muscles slowly ease, the agony in his shoulder becomes more prominent, and he has to bite his lip to keep himself from crying out with every jostle.

"Hurts," he mumbles, and he can hear Levi make a small noise of acknowledgement behind him, a careful hand guiding him further into the house. It's not a big house, but it's not small either, and it's infinitely better than Eren's current living arrangement. He can only dream of having a place like this for Mikasa and Armin.

"Here. Sit down," Levi says once they reach a large, wooden sofa. Eren looks at the sofa for a second, still biting his lip, before looking back at Levi. Sitting down makes it seem like he's going to be staying longer than he intends to, so he's a bit reluctant. But Levi only gestures to the sofa again, rolling his eyes as if he can hear Eren's thoughts, so Eren sits.

It's comfortable enough, and if he wasn't so worried for his family, he could probably fall asleep there. "Thanks," Eren whispers, voice dry.

"It's nothing," Levi replies, kneeling on the floor next to Eren's position on the couch. "Lie down," he instructs, and Eren complies, wincing as his shoulder brushes against the wood.

With rough, skillful hands, Levi takes Eren's arm and carefully prods at his shoulder. "This will hurt," Levi says, looking Eren straight in the eyes. Now that there's some lighting, Eren can see that Levi's eyes are indeed a piercing grey.

"I can handle pain," Eren replies, trying to be brave. He won't cry, and he won't shout. He can take it.

Levi nods, and he looks slightly impressed, which strangely enough makes Eren feel warm and fuzzy. "Good," Levi hums, and with calloused hands, he bends Eren's arm at a ninety degree angle. Even the small movement causes sharp pain to rack through Eren from his shoulder to the tip of his fingers, and he fights off a wince, knowing that the worse pain is yet to come.

Sure enough, it comes far too soon. With one hand, Levi grabs Eren's wrist, and with the other, he grabs Eren's elbow crease. Slowly, he applies pressure, and begins to rotate Eren's arm outwards. A fire ignites in his bones, and Eren hisses through his teeth, trying not to make a bigger sound because he's not weak. _Not weak, not weak, not weak._ The pain is far greater resetting the shoulder than it was dislocating it. It's a concentrated, slow pain, stabbing at him over and over and over. Each time Levi applies more pressure, and each time Levi rotates his arm, Eren’s stomach lurches. The pain is so terrible that Eren actually thinks, for a second, that he might throw up. Tears prick his eyes and he inhales sharply, but he doesn't let them fall. He won't be a weak, stupid little boy.

When the 'pop' comes, there's no immediate relief. Instead, there's a horrible, electrifying agony that shakes through his entire body for at least twenty seconds, and Eren can't help but whine quietly. He blushes brilliantly after, ashamed, and he can feel Levi stiffen slightly at the noise he just made. Even so, when he glances at the man, he doesn't look judgmental, which only makes Eren blush harder because _why is Levi so kind?_ Thankfully, slowly but surely, the pain subsides into a dull ache, and Levi helps Eren sit up.

"That hurt more than I thought it would," Eren admits, and Levi's mouth quirks up into a grin.

"You took it better than most," he reassures, but it doesn't really make Eren feel much better. After all, he promised himself that he wouldn't cry out, but he still did. "Really," Levi insists. "The first time I dislocated my shoulder, I screamed when it was reset."

"Really?" Eren perks up considerably, but blushes and looks down once Levi snorts.

"Glad my pain amuses you."

Eren shakes his head. "No, no!" He exclaims. "It's not that. I'm just relieved that it's not just me being a crybaby."

Looking amused, Levi pats Eren's not-recently-dislocated shoulder. "Calm down, kid. I was just joking around."

"It's Eren, not kid," Eren corrects automatically with an embarrassed mumble, looking up in confusion when he hears Levi let out an honest, earnest laugh.

"Okay, Eren," Levi says, ruffling Eren's hair before standing up and stretching slightly, still smiling. “By the way, you can stop clutching your bread so tight. You’re probably squishing the shit out of it.”

Eren looks down to where he’s still, impressively, clutching the bread, and finds that the bread’s indeed quite squished. But it’s still food, so he shrugs in indifference before immediately regretting it because it agitates his recently set shoulder.

“Thanks for all your help,” Eren says appreciatively, and he means it. “But I really should go now.”

Levi nods. “I’ll walk you back to wherever you live. It’s safer that way.”

Smiling (and totally not blushing), Eren nods shyly, already walking to the door to wait for Levi as he grabs his coat. It’s a nice, black coat, and something that Eren definitely will never be able to afford in this lifetime.

“Let’s go,” Levi marches out the door, and Eren follows suite. The door is locked behind them, and Eren finds himself, once again, in the streets.

It’s much darker than ten minutes ago, and if Levi wasn’t there with him, Eren would probably be terrified. After all, the dark is when the desperate, violent people hunt for stray kids to beat up and mug. Not that Eren has much to give anyway, but that doesn’t really make a difference to the thugs. But then again, some people would call Eren a thug too, and they aren’t the most far off. He doesn’t beat people up for fun, but he’s definitely gotten into his fair share of scuffles, and he’s definitely given someone a black eye before.

The wind brings in a slight chill, and Eren’s grateful for his ratty coat. It at least protects some protection from the wind, and it hides his bread well enough. Only an idiot would walk the streets of Paris at night with half a loaf of bread on show, and despite how rash Eren can be sometimes, he’s definitely not stupid enough to wave food in front of ravenous, equipped adults.

“Which way?” Levi asks, and Eren observes the streets for a bit. What didn’t look familiar before suddenly rings a small bell in his head, and he points in the way that seems to make the most sense.

“Err…I think it’s that way.”

“You think?” Levi raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t say much more.

“Hey,” Eren feels the need to defend himself. “I’m not used to this part. I usually stick closer to my…home.” He pauses before the word ‘home’, not even sure if he can call it that. Calling it ‘shelter’ is probably already pushing it, but he runs out of words so he just says the first thing that comes to mind. After all, it’s the people who make the home, not the place, and Eren can definitely say that he can find a home with Mikasa and Armin.

“Right, sorry,” Levi says, tugging Eren along. His shoulder is starting to feel a little less throbby (although it's still swollen), but Levi’s tug still hurts, and Eren has to bite back a wince. Luckily, Levi’s looking ahead so he doesn’t catch it, saving Eren the embarrassment.

Armin and Mikasa always argue that showing pain isn’t a sign of weakness, but Eren has a different mindset. It’s different for him, and it always will be. Eren doesn’t bother to shelter them from the cruelty of the world, but he’s definitely seen more. They aren’t naïve by any means, but that also doesn’t mean that they’ve seen people the way Eren has. He’s seen rape, and murder, and cold-blooded torture. He’s been beaten within an inch of his life before, and still had to pretend that everything was fine so that Mikasa and Armin wouldn’t worry. And although they always find out anyway, Eren always has to try. They will never understand what he’s had to sacrifice to keep them alive, and he hopes that they never will.

“Hey, which way now?” Levi snaps Eren out of his crowded mind, and Eren blinks owlishly. The streets are much more familiar now, and he has no trouble directing Levi towards the right direction. With Levi linked arm and arm with him, no one spares them a second glance. It seems that the older man has quite the reputation, and Eren would be lying if he says that he’s not at least a little curious.

They stroll in silence for a minutes before Eren grows too fidgety. “What’s your favourite colour?” He blurts out, instantly regretting it. Heat automatically crawls up his cheek, and he has half the mind to look away so he can hide it. _Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid,_ he thinks to himself. _You’ve fucked it up. You’re such a loser. Who just suddenly asks someone about their favourite colour at a time like this? The country’s about to be trampled, and you’re thinking about colours. God, you’re such a loser._

“Green,” Levi responds after a moment of silence, and Eren’s gaze snaps to him, shocked.

“Huh?” Is his eloquent response, and Levi snorts.

“Green, my favourite colour is green,” he repeats, and Eren stores that away. Why? He doesn’t know. But it seems like something he should remember.

“My favourite colour is yellow,” Eren says, and Levi hums in acknowledgement.

He doesn’t say, _“I didn’t ask.”_ He doesn’t say, _“No one cares.”_ Instead, Levi asks, sounding genuinely curious, “Why?”

Eren doesn’t even pause, elated to be asked such a question. “Because it’s so bright! It’s such a happy colour, like how the sun looks behind clouds, or the bright flowers in the shops. And like bread! It totally looks like bread. When people smile, I think of the colour yellow. And the coins are yellow too. And coins mean survival, and survival means resilience, and resilience and survival means that I’m still alive and still fighting.”

Levi blinks, and blinks again, and it seems that Eren’s managed to shock him this time around. “I feel like everything you said is a stretch,” he finally says dryly, but Eren can hear the humour in his voice, so he doesn’t take offense.

“Oh yeah?” He teases (note: flirts) back, “Then why is your favourite colour green?”

“Because it’s the colour of nature. The leaves on the trees, the grass on the ground, and the colour of the earth.”

Eren falters for a second in his walking, nearly causing Levi to stumble too. He doesn’t know why Levi’s answer affects him so much, but it does. He can’t help but find Levi’s answer so… _attractive._ Growing up with a mother who loved to garden, Eren’s always had an affinity with nature, and hearing Levi say those words, he’s truly rendered speechless.

“What?” Levi looks back in irritation at Eren’s falter, but Eren can’t meet his eyes. If he does, he might actually kiss Levi, and how _embarrassing_ would that be?

But he makes the mistake of looking at Levi’s eyes anyway, and he actually has to stop walking to catch his breath.

 _“What?”_ Levi demands again, exasperated, stopping next to Eren with an annoyed sigh. It’s dark, and the stars are out, and they’re beautiful. There’s no one else on the street that they’re one, and there’s just enough light to illuminate Levi’s face. His eyes are the colour of steal with flecks of warmth, and his face is regal and handsome.

“Fuck it,” Eren mutters, shivering from the cold.

“I’m getting really tired of saying this, but _what?_ ” Levi raises his eyebrows as he stares at Eren expectantly, but Eren can barely breathe, much less speak.

 _Fuck it,_ he thinks this time, and leans towards Levi. The country he lives in is on the brink of failure, and he might die tomorrow, and he’ll probably never see Levi again, so _fuck it._

Before he knows it, their lips meet, and Eren’s suddenly filled with warmth. Levi doesn’t freeze up, and he doesn’t act surprised. Instead, he’s the one who starts moving first, and who Eren has to quicken to follow. His lips are rough, and everything about him burns. It burns Eren to the core, and he doesn’t think that anything has ever _felt so good._ Levi’s hands are trailing through his hair and up his shirt, and the bread’s getting crushed between their chests. But Eren doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about anything but Levi.

 _Oh god,_ Eren thinks when Levi starts to nibble on his lips, and he readily lets Levi’s tongue slip into his mouth. Levi’s strong and commanding and intoxicating, and everything about him screams power. His build, his eyes, his presence. Their mouths move together at a steadily building pace, and Eren’s tummy explodes into butterflies. His toes curl, and he might have let out a tiny moan, but at least he manages to remain upright with his rapidly buckling knees.

Eren digs his free hand into Levi’s lower back, and Levi _groans_ against his mouth. They are tangled in each other, and all Eren wants is more. _More, more, more._ Eren timidly licks Levi’s lips, slipping his tongue in, and he runs his tongue experimentally along the roof of Levi’s mouth as Levi deepens the kiss further, pressing against Eren until space ceases the exist between them, and until all Eren can see and feel is _Levi._

 _Oh,_ Eren thinks once Levi pulls back, smirking. No, not smirking. _Smiling._

Eren thinks of yellow, and the sun, and living. He thinks of green, and how the world feels as if it’s spinning much, much faster.

He’s panting, and Levi’s breathing heavily as well, and he wants to be close to Levi again. He itches to touch Levi, and to feel him, and to hold him and kiss him again and again and again. He wants to feel the roughness of Levi’s lips again, and the fluidness in the way that they moved.

“Let’s get you home,” Levi finally manages to choke out, voice low and cracking.

Eren nods, eyes wide, and he slowly reaches a tentative finger to touch his swollen lips. Although he was the one who initiated the kiss, he definitely wasn’t the one in control, and there’s something so enticing about the way Levi completely flips every situation around.

“It’s right around the corner,” Eren manages to squeak out, flushing pink with trembling knees. He manages to make it around the corner, and he can see the hidden, rundown shelter, so he gently pulls away from Levi, pointing to the small building.

There’s a dread blossoming, and he doesn’t want to leave, and he’s so caught up in the sinking of his stomach that he doesn’t notice when Levi closes the gap between them once more until he feels something touch his cheek. Chapped lips, gentle and kind. It might be a farewell kiss, but it feels like so much more. It feels like a promise.

(The next day, Levi turns up at the rundown shelter with yellow dandelions, much to Mikasa and Armin’s bewilderment. “To make you happy,” Levi says to Eren, smiling as wide as possible with closed lips.

Eren thinks that he falls in love.)


End file.
